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Rated: E · Poetry · Gothic · #1207461
They really were there in my room in Iceland. They scared me...
Fingerprints dance upon my walls
How did I come upon them all?
They appeared there as I slept.
I was scared, so still I kept.

There they remain, even now
Though for the life of me I don't know how.
To small for an adult, too large for a child
So high on my wall, erratic and wild.

They won't go away but no one else sees
I beg of them to leave me- "please."
They whisper to me and nervous am I
For they have told me I'm going to die.

Fearful am I, fearsome are they
Prints of another, maybe at play.
Smudged on the wall, black as night-
A voice in me murmurs, "this is not right!"

How I sleep I know not,
My courage has all gone to rot,
I'm afraid I may be going insane,
With nothing to lose, thothing to gain...
© Copyright 2007 Raina Maddox (deviasol at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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